


The Twelve Labours of Kankri Vantas

by Mogseltof



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Discussion of mental illness, Humanstuck, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 09:23:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3129392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mogseltof/pseuds/Mogseltof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At this point, you've all known each other so long that bringing anyone else into the friendship is just too much like hard work. Everything's bleeding toxic though, and there's not much to do but try and patch up the cracks.</p><p>In which Kankri attempts to mend ties, and cut others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Twelve Labours of Kankri Vantas

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter is a holiday gift fic for tumblr user f-imaginings, who made a very nice request and instead got lumped with my humanstuck assholes.

There was a wet patch growing on his shoulder, and Kankri tentatively patted Porrim’s shoulder. “There, there,” he said, unsure.

“You’re the worst,” Porrim said between sniffs. “God, I’m _ruining_ this sweater! Urgh, today is the worst.”

“Then why bother calling me the worst if I’m so far out of the running?” Kankri asked, unable to keep the small amount of irritation out of his voice, even as he reached up to push her hair behind her ears.

“Shut up,” Porrim said, muffled by the material on his shoulder. “People suck.”

There was an awkward pause, and Kankri started to notice his leg cramping. If he moved, though, he would have to move Porrim - _clearly_ not an option. “If it’s any consolation, I think you broke her nose,” he offered cautiously.

Porrim pushed off of him to give him a wide-eyed look, and Kankri braced himself, but instead of berating him, she just asked in a small voice - “Oh, you really think so?”

“Porrim, violence is not the answer-”

“But do you really think I broke her nose?”

“Oh my _go_ -  _yes_ , I’ve seen broken noses before, Meenah will definitely be regretting mouthing off in such a way, if she isn’t already.” Kankri huffed, cutting off the rest of his lecture, still conscious of the fact that while Porrim mightn’t have made the wisest of decisions, she was his best friend, and there were black streaks all down her face where she’d rubbed her tears and eyeliner together.

Porrim sniffled a little, and released his jumper, finally. Kankri breathed a quiet sigh of relief, only to be caught in a near choke as Porrim seized him in a fierce hug. “You’re my best friend, you know that right?” Porrim said, sniffing loudly again.

“An eye for an eye, I suppose,” Kankri said, affecting a gloomy tone that made her laugh a little. “What exactly happened, anyway?”

Porrim sniffed again, this time with an imperious air. “Urgh, I’ll tell you in the morning. Do you mind if I sleep here tonight?” she asked, stretching her arms out. “Kanaya took the car earlier - I was going to stay at Aranea’s, but that is _clearly_ no longer an option…” she trailed off.

Kankri snorted. “Yes, punching out her girlfriend might have shot that option in the face for you. Maybe lending the car to your sister wasn’t the best idea.”

Porrim inspected under her nail bed with a critical eye, not looking at him. “Actually, I think it might have been the fact that my tongue was inside her vagina right before I punched out her girlfriend that could have, uh, triggered her desire for a bit of space.”

It spoke volumes to how long they’d known each other that Kankri only rolled his eyes. “And you were so indignant about Meenah not liking that you stayed friends after you broke up.”

“Oh fuck Meenah,” Porrim said sharply. “She deserves every bad thing that comes to her in this life and then some.”

Kankri raised an eyebrow. “Right.” He stood up, picking up the worn leather jacket that had been draped over the arm of the couch. “I’m afraid you’ll have to take the couch. Will you be alright if I go?”

“I’ll be fine,” Porrim said, already leaning over to grab a folded blanket from the pile under the coffee table. She gave him a critical eye, though, looking him over. “Who’s sleeping in your bed, then, if you’re going?”

“Cronus,” Kankri said, suddenly feeling very tired as he shrugged the leather jacket on. “I think he’s hiding from Meenah. It’s been a long day.”

“Amen to that,” Porrim said dryly, reaching around to undo her bra clasp under her shirt. “I haven’t even heard from Karkat yet, did he lose his voice or is he out?”

“Out,” Kankri said, flipping his wrist around to check his watch, “Though with any luck he’ll be back soon - he lost his key, so he’s got mine and I’d rather not leave without it.” There was a loud click of the front door unlocking, and Kankri sighed. “Speak of the devil and he shall appear.”

“Don’t tempt fate. Where are you going, anyway?” Porrim asked, pulling her bra out and holding it while Karkat’s erratic steps came down the hall.

“Latula’s,” Kankri groused, and he felt around in the inside pocket of the jacket for Cronus’ cigarettes. He could call it bed tax, they weren’t especially close friends after all, and he was starting to feel the beginnings of a tension headache coming on.

Karkat rounded the corner, and Porrim flung her bra with a practised accuracy. Karkat didn’t even flinch as it hit the side of his head and landed on his shoulder, only leant against the wall and slid down it until he hit the floor, looking decidedly queasy. “Oh dear,” Porrim muttered.

“Are you drunk?” Kankri asked.

“Mrfm,” Karkat… said.

“I’m afraid I didn’t quite catch that one, Karkat, if you’re having difficulty speaking might I remind you we both know sign language,” Kankri said, his fingers finally closing around the packet of cigarettes. He pulled it out and checked the number inside, idly counting. “And if my keys could be returned to my possession, I would be greatly pleased. I have no intention of denying either of us access to our abode, but right at this instance I have need of them, you are presumably about to sleep, and the key cutters will not be open for trade until the morning.”

Karkat flipped him off. “I thought you quit that shit,” he said. “Take your fucking keys, they’re by the door. Might as well save a few goddamn bucks and don’t worry about getting new ones for me. I’m probably going to die from fucking shame oh my fucking god.”

He buried his face in his hands, the movement knocking Porrim’s bra to the floor, and she shrugged at Kankri. “Nie moj cyrk, nie moje malpy,” she said, pulling the blanket over her head.

“Very mature,” he muttered. “The both of you. Might I inquire as to why you’re going to expire from shame?”

“You just did, you egregious fucking prick, will you stop dancing around the goddamn topic by pretending to be verbose you just sound like a tool,” Karkat said, loudly enough to cut through the muffling of his hands. “The hottest fucking guy in that godforsaken excuse of a queer club scene, and I am such a fucking shitstain on the heel of the universe that not only do I lack talent in sex, I am so actively cock-sobbingly bad at goddamn blow jobs that I _turned him straight_. I mean, one minute it’s all ‘wow dancing and make outs and you’re cute wanna escalate somewhere’ and less than five-fucking-minutes later he’s sobbing into my arms like a bastard child denied legitimate parentage and it’s all ‘I’m sorry Karkat, _I’m not a homosexual_!’”

Porrim’s arm emerged from under the blanket and dug around in her handbag to proffer Kankri a blister sheet of painkillers. Wordlessly he took it, swallowed two pills dry, and pocketed the rest. He had two options - continue on to Latula, and help the woman he was thirty percent certain he was desperately crushing on get back together with her boyfriend, or he could stay here, console a drunk Karkat who was probably beyond consolation just yet, try and worm the rest of what happened out of Porrim, and deal with Cronus when he eventually woke up, probably without sleeping, unless Karkat deigned to give him some mattress space. His drunk, probably vomitous, younger brother. Or Latula’s guest room.

“Oh dear,” he said blandly, stepping around the couch and walking for the front hall. “I’m sure you’ll feel better in the morning. Must dash, really, quite urgent,” he tacked on absentmindedly. Maybe everything would seem simpler in the morning.

Karkat stuck his head around the corner. “At least leave me a smoke, you asshole!”

Kankri paused with the front door open to light a cigarette, and pulled it out of his mouth with a long stream of smoke. “Oh god no!” he called back, the back of his throat burning like it hadn’t in months. “Don’t you know those things will kill you?”


End file.
